Thoughts on Husbands, Pregnancy and Cosmetic Surgery

I was talking with my husband the other morning while he was getting ready to go to work. Here he was, looking all Mr. GQ, in his dress pants, shirt, tie, new hair cut, and smelling oh so good when it hit me. How come he gets to look so absolutely gorgeous? How come the only proof of this pregnancy he has is our baby’s ultrasound picture he carries in his pocket?

Me on the other hand, I feel like a beached whale, suffering from headaches, pulled muscles, morning sickness and raging hormones. For the life of me, I cannot find a bra that will fit! By the time this baby gets here, I will be so well endowed that I would be able to feed an army of infants.

Speaking of the bra issue, I for one did not think I would ever consider the possibility of a “Boob Job” (not politically correct, I know) but the further along in this pregnancy I get, the more I am considering the possibility. I mean, come on! These things are going to hit the ground pretty soon! I am hoping to breast feed, but if they continue to get any larger, I fear I will suffocate little Abby when she finally gets here!

I guess the grass is always greener on the other side. Those that lack in this area wish for more abundance, and those of us naturally well-endowed long for small and perky. There is absolutely nothing attractive about what I have going on here. At 6 months pregnant it is still hard to tell which is larger, my bust or my belly. And, just so you know, my belly is quite large. We ran into one of my husband’s friends at a local store who asked me if I wasn’t sure I was due now. So much for flattery and boosting a woman’s self-esteem!

So here I am, waddling like a duck, trying to not to fall over due to being so top heavy, and praying that I can find a super bra that will actually hold these things up from under my arm pits….and yes, that is while standing up!

I know, I know….once I have the baby they will get a bit smaller, I have been down this road before, but let’s think about that. Not a pretty picture. The stretch marks will fade, I know, but what about that saggy skin left behind? They will just dangle, getting closer and closer to the ground. I just pray I don’t actually trip over the darn things!

So, for all of the times in the past that I swore up and down I would NEVER have any kind of cosmetic surgery, I take back every last word I said. Considering we would like one more baby, I shudder to think of the effects that will have on my ever expanding bustline.

To each her own, but what I wouldn’t do to have those cute little perky ones that don’t cause extreme backache and that don’t require a bra made with a steel underwire! This is proving to be a lesson in self acceptance. I am failing miserably at accepting the effects this pregnancy is having on my body.

What I am finding harder to accept, however, is the lack of effects this pregnancy is having on my husband’s body! How come he gets to look and feel so wonderful about all of this, while I get to go through all of the lovely emotional and physical changes of pregnancy? I can just see us in the delivery room, me looking as if I have been through WWIII, big as a house, and there my loving husband will be all decked out holding our little miracle and looking oh so fantastic for the camera!

Then, before he heads out the door to face another day, my gorgeous husband takes me in his arms, tells me how beautiful I am carrying his child, and he kisses me. Ok, so in the end it will all be worth it. But…….

I still don’t think it’s fair!

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